Mental— unstable
by Shostakovich
Summary: Jean Grey and Professor X aren't the only psychics around.
1. Dizzy

Rated T for language.

All X-men material belongs to Marvel; some of it also belongs to Fox (I think?).

All original material, plot, characters, that sort of thing, belongs to me.

_Note_: This is the beginning of what will hopefully be a long story.. I have an extended plot worked out. I'm just letting you know ahead of time there will not be regular updates, as I have a real life which interferes with me often. .

Please read and review:-)

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_**12 Nov 2006.**_

_**Boston, MA.**_

_**Drake house.**_

"Ronny?"

The walls were spinning, or something, because his posters should've had straight edges. 'Mutants suck' was starting to look like a whirlpool, and Ronny wondered if he was becoming a delinquent.

"Ronny?"

Bile was rising in his throat, and Ronny Drake coughed. Violently.

He heard someone else, not his mother, calling him, and he lurched from his bed to the window that looked at the house next door. Ronny locked stares with his neighbors' older daughter, the one who was Bobby's age.

"Jenny," Ronny croaked. He fumbled to open the latch.

Jenny Abrams smiled at him and rested her chin in her hands. "Oh, Rawny. Ah yuh sick?" Her voice was sickly sweet. She raised her hand and snapped, and he couldn't stop himself from retching.

He stared at her and she smirked before slamming shut her bedroom window. Ronny stumbled back onto his bed just as his mother knocked on his door.

"Ronny?"

He retched again, and his mother opened the door as he collapsed, head lolling.

"Ronny! Will! William, get up here!"

His father pounded up the stairs. "What, Maddy?" He stopped when he saw Ronny. "Ronny? What happened?"

"Jenny Abrams," Ronny spat. He fainted.

-.-.-.-

**_Next door..._**

Jenny Abrams rubbed her head.

Maybe making Ronny hadn't been such a great idea.

Now she was sick, too; she still didn't know how to do it to someone else without getting sick herself. But Ronny deserved everything she could throw at him and more, so she decided it was worth the queasiness.

And she was so angry with Ronny it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

"Jenny?"

"Yeah?"

"Mum wants ta talk ta ya."

"Okay, Dani. Teller I'll be right down."

Little feet padded down the stairs past Jenny's door. Danielle was quieter than usual, but maybe that was because their parents had been sick for the past two weeks.

She shouldn't notice stuff like that. She's just seven.

Jenny had to concentrate hard to keep Danielle healthy, but it was more than worth it. Danielle wouldn't care about Jenny being special, being different.

Being advanced.

Jenny sighed and pulled the shades across her window. For a moment, she saw Ronny Drake's parents looking across at her, and she shivered.

But she looked away and bounded downstairs to her mother.

"Yeah, Ma?"

"Jenny, come in the den." Jenny went in the den to see her mother at the window, looking across at the Drake's house. "Close the door, would you?" Jenny shut the door and stood in front of it, suddenly wary.

"Wazzup?"

Her mother sighed and turned to look at her daughter. "We realized what you've been up to, Jenny." Jenny frowned.

"Whaddya mean—"

"You've been making us sick," her mother said. "We realized, after what happened with Bobby next door a few weeks ago..." Her mother looked back out the window. Jenny didn't say anything. "And I got a very interesting phone call the other day. From Madeline next door."

"I know who Madeline is, Ma." Jenny crossed her arms.

"Apparently Ronny's been sick, too. Just like your father and I."

"So what? It's probly a bug."

"Oh, no. I don't think so, dear."

Jenny clenched her fists. "So ya get sick and ya call me a mutant?"

"It's not just me. It's your father; and it's Ronny Drake, who happens to have called the police so nothing'd happen to his family with Bobby's friends there—"

"Ronny lied! He said people were keeping them there and wouldn't let them out!"

"Well, look what happened to their house!"

"The police were the ones who shot the man! That started that fire-breathing kid up, not anything else." Jenny's fingernails bit into her palm. "I'm sick a this, Ma."

"Jenny, stop!"

But Jenny was already lost, her hands unclenching and her pale eyes flashing. "You had ta start, didn't you?" She couldn't focus on the floor or the walls or the ceiling. "Ya had to be so close-minded that doing the right thing didn't mattah. I thought you wanted me ta do the right thing."

"Jenny—" Her mother clamped her mouth shut, and Jenny took some small satisfaction when her mother groaned even as bile rose in her own throat.

"I'm sick and tired of this!"

The door banged open. "Get out."

Jenny spun to see her father, his face pinched and green. "What?"

"Get out of my house. You're not welcome here."

Jenny opened and closed her mouth a few times before brushing past him and snapping again. He stumbled forward, clutching his head and moaning.

She stopped when she saw Danielle at the top of the stairs. She felt, rather than heard, her parents straighten up, slightly recovered, as she clambered upstairs.

"Are you really a mutant, Jenny?" Jenny didn't know what to say. "Are ya going ta go away?"

She set her shoulders and went into her room, Danielle trailing behind in her seven-year old way. "I'm a mutant, yeah." Danielle's yes widened. "And I'm going away. Thank our parents for that."

"Are they making ya leave?"

Jenny hesitated. "No, Dani. I just think it'll be bettah if I go. I don't wanna hurt you." She dumped her books out of her backpack and went over to her closet.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me," Danielle said. Jenny laughed.

"I know you know. But I don't." Jenny pulled off her sweats and shimmied her way into jeans. "I need to learn how to control it."

"What can you do? Are you like Bobby? Can you make things ice?"

"No, I make people dizzy."

"That's not fun. Is that why Mummy and Daddy are always dizzy?"

Jenny stopped stuffing clothes into her backpack to stare at her sister for a moment. "Yeah." She turned back to packing her things. "Dani, can yuh do me a favor?"

"Yeah."

"Can you promise not to tell anybody?"

"I pinky promise I won't tell nobody."

"Anybody," Jenny corrected.

"Anybody," Danielle agreed. She frowned. "When will you come back?" Jenny shrugged as she zipped up her sweater and pulled out a wad of bills from her socks drawer. "Will I see you ever again?"

Jenny turned back to her sister. "Of course," she whispered. She pulled Danielle into her arms and felt her eyes dampen. "I'm going to come back and visit yuh. Don't worry, babes."

"I loff you."

"I love you more. Ya know that, right?" Danielle nodded. Jenny glanced at her doorway where her father was standing and then kissed her sister. "You be good, okay? Study for yuh spelling test next Tuesday. I beddanot hear you've been bad."

Jenny stood and hefted her backpack onto her shoulder. She stared at her father until she was out of her room. She pounded down the stairs and went out the front door. Before she closed it, she grabbed her mother's car keys. She left the door open and ran down the lawn to the car.

She slid inside, put the keys in the ignition, and hit the gas.

"It was worth it," she said to herself, "helping Bobby." She pulled out from the driveway and glanced up to see her baby sister in her window, waving. She honked the horn, twice.

_Bip-bip._

"Loves," she whispered.

-.-.-.-

_**Two days later.**_

_**Lac-Frontière, Quebec.**_

Mystique was working on a computer, probably hacking some Swiss bank account of a human supremacist. Magneto was off somewhere, probably making a new helmet. And Pyro? Pyro was flicking his lighter, on-off-on-off.

_Click._

_Fwoosh._

_Snap._

_Click._

_Fwoosh._

_Snap._

They were in a cabin on the Maine-Canada border that Mystique had bought in the guise of a middle-aged man. The whole thing was made out of wood, so Pyro had to amuse himself with his fire outside. Just in case.

He pulled the flame from his lighter and made a little dragon that flapped around his head as he wandered into the woods around the cabin. Snow piled on the ground from a recent snowfall and wet leaves stuck to the bottom of Pyro's boots.

Pyro glanced behind him, making sure the cabin was still in sight. Magneto had warned him not to get lost, but Pyro knew enough about woods to know it wasn't easy to get lost. If all else failed, he could just send up a flare. Someone would notice.

And if the someone wasn't Magneto or Mystique...

Well, he'd deal with that when it happened. If all else failed, he could always fry them to a crisp. Not very eloquent, but no one would ever think anything of it. People get burnt to a crisp all the time, right?

He snorted and kicked at a rock in his path. It skipped through a puddle and landed behind a tree. Pyro went to kick it again, but stopped short.

A girl was kneeling behind the tree, holding the rock in her hand. She looked up at him and leapt to her feet, the rock dropping to the ground.

"You're that fire-breathing kid," she said. Pyro's eyes narrowed.

"Who're you?" He flicked on his lighter and the flame grew into a fireball in his hand. She flinched and backed away.

"Jenny. I'm looking for Magneto."

"Jenny what?"

"Jenny Atrium. I live next door ta Bobby. Yuh wuh there with him, two weeks ago."

"And you're looking for Magneto? Here? You won't find him." Pyro kept his eyes on hers, remembering what Bobby had told him about successful lying.

"I will find him, and I'm not gunna be stopped by you." Jenny Atrium stepped forward and Pyro let his fireball fly. She shrieked and dove out of the way; the fire caught on her backpack and she shimmied her arms from the straps. She slammed the bag on the ground and rolled it around to smother the flames.

Pyro readied another blast, but Jenny Atrium made a gesture at him and he suddenly lost his footing. Everything spun around his head as he landed on his back in a puddle. The fire sputtered out in the water, and Jenny leaned over him and grabbed his lighter. She closed it.

_Snap._

"Next time ya wanna lie t'me, fire boy, rememba I'll know if you're not telling the truth." She snapped under his nose and pulled her hand away just as he felt his lunch churning up his throat.

Pyro squeezed his eyes shut but heard her grunt all of a sudden, and the queasiness went away. He scrambled up from the ground to see her tackled by Mystique. She was struggling, but then she looked at Mystique, really looked at her, and then she stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

With a swish, Mystique turned into Magneto and tossed Pyro his lighter. She cocked an eyebrow at Jenny Atrium and the girl's mouth closed and she swallowed. Mystique stood and offered her a hand up.

"Now," Mystique said, in Magneto's voice. "Why might you be looking for me, my dear?"

Jenny Atrium gave Mystique a look of withering scorn and crossed her arms. "You aren't Magneto."

"Deal with it. Now, why are you looking for me?"

"No 'my dear' this time?" Pyro lit up his lighter, and she snarled at him before she turned back to Mystique. "Well, my parents kicked me out and I need a place t'stay. And I'll help you. With whatever you need help with."

"And what can you do besides make Pyro writhe on the ground like an earthworm?"

"I can make people ill. Really ill. And I can tell when people're lying."

"Are you a telepath?"

"I think so." At Mystique's frown, she added, "Probably, if I work hard at it. I used ta not be able to control making people ill, but I learned. It takes time, though."

"And why didn't you go off where Bobby is?" Pyro broke in. Mystique glared at him as Jenny shot him a confused look.

"Bobby's at prep school. Why would I go there?"

"Oh, my dear, there's no reason at all for you to be anywhere but here."

Pyro, Mystique, and Jenny Atrium turned to see the real Magneto coming from the direction of the cabin. Mystique swished back into her normal blue self, and she squared her shoulders.

"So can I stay? I'll do whatevah you need me to." Her gaze was earnest, and Pyro stared at her hopeful expression. How had the Professor not known about her?

Magneto smiled at her and placed an arm around her shoulders as he steered her towards the cabin. "My dear, I am glad to have you here."

Pyro and Mystique glanced at each other as Magneto worked his charm on Jenny Atrium. Mystique picked up Jenny's bag and opened it. She pulled out a wad of bills after a minute and tossed it at Pyro.

"Count it," she said. "And come on."

He followed her to the cabin as he counted the bills. "I wonder why the Professor didn't bring her to his school."

"Your professor's not perfect," Mystique said. "She might be able to block others from sensing her."

"Lucky us, then."

"If she's a telepath, we're damned lucky. If she could find more mutants to bring to our cause..."

Pyro nodded. "Yeah, I get it. Shit, she's got a ton of money."

"How much?"

"Like, three hundred."

"That's not a ton of money, Pyro."

"Whatever. How's she gonna get better at doing her thing?"

Mystique smirked at him. "I have a feeling she'll get to practice on lucky you."

"Fuck."


	2. Gmutant

Rated T for language.

All X-men material belongs to Marvel; some of it also belongs to Fox (I think?).

All original material, plot, characters, that sort of thing, belongs to me.

_Note_: E-mail #1— Text taken from X-Factor #87.

_Note 2_: The format for the e-mails... Sorry it's not more obviously e-mail-y. I was going to give Pyro a signature, but I couldn't figure out how to do that without it looking awkward. The quote would have been, "Honest criticism means nothing; what one wants is unrestrained passion: fire for fire." (Henry Miller)

_Another note_: As far as Gmutant is concerned, I'm just telling all you hopefuls that it doesn't exist.

_And another note_: As far as the whole mutant class and mutant levels is concerned... The Class 1-5 system is from the movies, and I got my information from a forum at RT (Rotton Tomatoes). See the notes after the chapter for more on that. The real system from the comics uses Alpha, Beta, etc.

Please read and review. :-)

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Pyro leaned against the wall, playing with his lighter, watching Jenny Atrium.

_Click._

_Fwoosh._

_Snap._

She was on the futon, where he usually slept, sitting on her hands and pursing her lips at the fireplace. Her skin and eyes were pale against her dark hair. She glanced at him and he looked away, although he regretted it a moment later. Mystique had threatened him with unmistakably intense pain should he fail to convince her to stay, and he had no desire to be on her bad side— and through her, Magneto's as well.

It was bad enough that _he_ had to do it— he was certainly not the most convincing member of the Brotherhood, which translated into sucking up to her. He was good at lying, sure, but not as far as being nice went. His ego itched to threaten her into submission, but obviously he couldn't really go down that path.

"Where's my backpack?"

"Huh?"

"My backpack."

"Oh." _Click._ "Mystique has it."

"Mystique? The blue lady?"

"Yeah." He shut his lighter without sparking a flame. "How long've you know Bobby?"

Jenny Atrium turned to look at him, eyes wide. "Eight years. Why?"

"No reason."

"How long've _you_ known him?"

"Four years."

"Oh." She looked him over. "Ya went to the same prep school?"

"Prep school?" He snorted. "Hardly." She cocked her head. "Xavier's."

"Wassat?"

"Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters," Pyro intoned. He waggled his fingers impressively.

"You're not gifted," she said. "Bobby's gifted."

"The fuck you mean, I'm not gifted? It's a school for mutants. I'm as fucking gifted as Bobby."

"What? Bobby's at a school for mutants?"

Pyro rolled his eyes. "What're you, dumb? I just said that."

"Why don't I know about it?" Jenny Atrium stood up, eyes flashing, hands in fists. "Where is it? Tell me where it is!"

"You don't know where your friend goes to school?" Pyro bit his lip to keep from laughing. Trust Bobby's family to keep the neighbors in the dark. "It's in New York."

"Then I'm goin' ta New York."

"Pff. How the hell you gonna get there?"

"How d'ya think I got here?" She snorted. "Don't try and stop me."

"You can't just go." He grabbed her arm when she stalked past him. "The Brotherhood needs you."

Jenny paused. She looked down at his hand around her elbow, eyes widening. "You're full of bullshit."

"Oh, now _I'm_ full of bullshit. You're the one who's just promised to stay with us, help us out."

"I— I never promised that. I just said—"

"You did say that. Not in so many words, but you did. And now you're going to walk out on Magneto? You think he'll appreciate that?"

"No, but—"

"I think you need to think before walking out on us. Magneto needs your help. And don't tell me I'm lying, because I'm not. I thought you could tell when people're lying, anyway."

"I can!" She wrenched away from him and he crossed his arms expectantly while she stared at his face. "You're not lying," she finally said. "But that doesn't mean they don't need me! They might need me more!"

"They don't, trust me."

"Why? Why should I trust you?"

"They already have telepaths! They've got the most powerful telepath on the planet!" Jenny's lips parted in shock. Pyro rushed on. "And why should you trust me? Because we're both part of this!" He gestured wildly, making Jenny flinch. He stuck his hands in his pockets, hoping she'd interpret his enthusiasm for the Brotherhood as need. "We're part of this brotherhood or whatever you wanna call it, we're mutants. Who the hell else are we gonna trust? Bobby's parents?"

"I don't even know your name!"

"I'm Pyro." She shrugged and turned away. "Listen, we need you."

"Me, or my mind?"

"That's not— We need you! You can't just go!"

"Watch me," she snapped. When she spun back, Pyro had moved in and was inches away from her after her violent turn. "Jesus!"

She stumbled backwards, breathing heavily, and Pyro suddenly felt a tiny ounce of pity for her.

"Why're you here, anyway?"

"Because I had nowhere else t'go."

"You said you'd do anything we needed you to," he said, "and we need you to stay."

"I could be with my friend!"

"Or you could help mutantkind."

"I don't wanna help! I just wanna place to be!"

"You're fine right here!" Pyro grabbed her shoulders. "You could do so much good, don't you get it?"

"I don't wanna do good." Her chin quivered but her eyes were strangely dry. "Just let me go."

He felt his stomach lurch a little and he knew what'd happen if he didn't let go. "I can't. I care too much."

"About yourself!"

"About doing the right thing!" He bit his lower lip to keep his lunch down where it belonged. "You know I'm not lying, Jenny Atrium!"

She relaxed, chin still shaking but no longer making him sick. "Maybe." She sighed. "Find a compromise. Or I'll just go."

"What?"

"A compromise. Yuh know what a compromise is?"

"Yeah, no shit. Uh. One week."

"One week?"

"You stay one week."

She nodded. "And then I'll decide if I leave or stay."

"You'll stay," Pyro promised. He pulled her into a quick hug. "Thank you."

"How do yuh know I'll stay?"

"Maybe I'm psychic, too."

---

_**14 Nov 2006.**_

_**Three hours later.**_

"So do you have another name?"

"Whaddya mean?" She fidgeted on the futon. It was wet outside, and it had dropped below freezing, but there was a fire in the grate and Jenny and Pyro were toasty in the den.

"Yeah. You know. I'm Pyro, Magneto's Magneto, Mystique's Mystique. Who're you?"

She smiled at him sardonically. "Jenny Atrium." He rolled his eyes.

"Your real name."

"Ya don't really think Atrium's my last name."

"You mean..." Pyro laughed. "No shit, I thought you just didn't have a name."

"I've got a name."

"What's your other name?"

"Jenny Abrams."

"Abrams?"

She shrugged. "It's Dutch. It's common enough. Lotsa Jews're named Abrams." He could tell she was waiting for him to ask her about being Jewish, but he didn't.

"Do you know Abby Abrams?"

"You know her?"

"Yeah, she's at Xavier's."

"I don't believe it! Is she from Chicago? What's she look like?"

"Yeah, Chicago. I think somewhere in the South, originally. Brown hair, glasses, tall. Oh yeah, and green skin."

"Green skin!"

"Her real name's Dryad. She's pretty cool. She likes good music."

"What music?"

"Uh, Arctic Monkeys, Anti-flag. Even Queen and shit like that."

"No kidding. She's my cousin." He laughed. "Shut up! Is she really there?"

"Mhm."

"That's wicked pissah. I haven't seen her for, like, years."

"What, you think you can see her now?"

"No, but Mystique said if I needed ta, she could send an encrypted e-mail a somethin'."

"So you'll send her an e-mail?"

"Yeah. Just tellin' her I'm okay and maybe ta tell Bobby I say hi." She grinned.

"Why you so interested in Bobby?"

"He's my neighbor." She shrugged and looked back at the fireplace. "We were friends."

"Friends, sure." He snorted. Jenny narrowed her eyes. "Kidding."

"Bobby's my neighbor. Not my boyfriend."

"Bobby's going out with Rogue. I hope he's not your boyfriend."

Jenny swallowed. "Rogue? Who's Rogue?"

"She was at his house with us. White stripes." He ran a finger through his bangs. "She's hot."

"I don't rememba her."

"Huh. Watch it."

Pyro jumped over the back of the futon and landed on Jenny's foot as she scrambled to get out of his way.

"Ya bayuhst'd!" She pulled her foot out from under him. "Next time tell me before ya do that!"

"Next time?" He smirked at her. "Glad to hear it."

---

_**17 Nov 2006.**_

_**Three days later.**_

Jenny curled up under one of felt blankets on the futon. Pyro was regretting letting her sleep on it the first night; now, he was stuck on an air mattress that always managed to deflate by the time he woke up.

"Maybe if ya didn't flop down on it like that, it wouldn't deflate so much," she said.

"Maybe you should just use it. You don't weigh as much."

"They can handle ya weight, John."

"No they can't." He stuck his tongue out at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Stop acting like a baby."

"No."

"I'm sure Magneto'd love to hear about your age change."

He rolled his eyes back at her. "You know, the futon folds down. We could both fit."

"Right, like I'd share with you." She stretched out her legs across the seat and smiled. "Besides, I need all this space. See?"

Pyro sighed and stood up. He wandered around to the back of the futon while she watched, interested. "Aha."

He found a lever on the side and pulled it. Jenny, leaning against the back of the couch, squealed as the whole thing flattened into a queen-sized bed.

"Ya bayast'd!" She sat up, looking a lot more disgruntled than she should have. "I'm not sharing with ya now!"

"Aw, come on, Jenny."

"Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?" He flopped down next to her, grinning as he leaned back on his elbows. "I don't ask much of you." She snorted. "You'll be warm."

"I'm warm at night."

"You shiver."

"So? That dun mean I'm cold." He laughed. "Ya know what, fine. But ya put one finger on me, I'll kill ya."

"Thank you!" He punched her arm lightly. "Awesome."

"Did you just say awesome?"

"Did I?" He frowned. "It's your fault. You and your _Baaaw_ston accent."

She glowed. "Isn't it wikkid?"

"Geez, and I thought Bobby's was bad."

She pushed him and crossed her arms. "Bobby's got a great accent."

"Yeah, right."

"You don't even have one, so keep ya mouth shut. Ya don't know a thing about accents."

"Do to! I used to have a Strayan accent."

"Oh? I don't hear it."

"I dropped it, that's why." He looked up from examining a few scars on his hand and glared at her. "And my full name."

"Why, what's your full name?"

"Find out yourself when you get to mind-reading." His look softened when she bit her lip. "What, you don't wanna?"

"I dunno if I can!"

"Hey, don't worry." He stood up and offered her a hand up. "Magneto'll show you how to do it."

"How's he know?"

She followed him to the kitchen door but he paused. "He knows a few psychics. Come on." He opened the door and Magneto looked up from Mystique's computer.

"Ah, Pyro. Jenny."

"Jenny wants to try her telepathy out."

Magneto's gaze shifted to Jenny, who licked her lips. "I dunno how to do it."

"That is a problem easily overcome." Magneto smiled at her and stood up. "Pyro, I'm sure, will have no objections to lending his services."

"Nope."

"Excellent."

---

_**20 Nov 2006.**_

_**Three days later.**_

Mystique was being nicer to Jenny than she'd ever been to Pyro. She was teaching her some self-defense— a good idea, according to Jenny.

"My sista can beat me up," she'd said, "and Danielle's just seven."

Pyro snorted then and he snorted now, remembering the conversation. He knew Jenny was just being nice to her sister.

Mystique had taken Jenny outside and given Pyro use of one of the computers. Obviously, everything had passwords, but he just needed to use the internet.

He logged in to his e-mail, eager to see if the mutant twins had left him any messages. "Sweet." He had three e-mails: two from the twins and one from the mutant website he belonged to. He opened up the older one from the twins.

--

_from: Quicksilver gmutant .com  
_

_to: Pyromutantical gmutant .com  
_

_date: November 18, 2006 12:56 AM_

_subject: Re: no subject_

_hey, red_

_SW says I've got PMS— Pietro Maximoff Syndrome (n): an uncontrollable urge to be high-handed and arrogant._

_think im living up to that? SW says i make it an art form._

_ever stood in a line at a banking machine behind a person who didn't know how to use it? or wanted to buy stamps at the post office, and the guy in front of you wants to know every single way he can ship his package to istanbul? or gotten some counter idiot at BK that can't comprehend 'whopper, no pickles?_

_because my life is slowed to a crawl by these people 24/7. my whole world? people who cant use cash machines._

_and sw says hi._

_later._

--

Pyro laughed out loud at PMS— maybe it did stand for pissy man syndrome. SW, Scarlet Witch, was the other twin, the girl. He didn't know how old they were, exactly, but they were close to his age. Twenty-one seemed a stretch, but so did seventeen. Nineteen seemed a safe bet, not that it mattered much.

Nothing about the twins mattered much, except maybe that Pietro said his sister thought he was cool. Not that she'd own up to it.

_--_

_from: ScarletWitch gmutant .com  
_

_to: Pyromutantical gmutant .com  
_

_date: November 19, 2006 3:12 PM_

_subject: seriously_

_since my brother's probably slipped his name by now, I might as well tell you I'm Wanda. your turn._

_--_

Pyro sighed. Pietro had told him straight out what his name was; it was weird, since Magneto had told him the only name that mattered was his real name— Pyro. The name, the word John didn't mean anything to Pyro. But telling the twins that John was his name would mean trust from two potential Brotherhood members.

He sighed again, resigned to telling them stuff that didn't matter.

Not like Pietro Maximoff Syndrome mattered, but still. At least that was just for shits and giggles. And it _was_ funny.

--

_from: Pyromutantical gmutant .com  
_

_to: ScarletWitch gmutant .com  
_

_date: November 19, 2006 3:12 PM_

_subject: Re: Seriously_

_cc: Quicksilver gmutant .com  
_

_John. St. John Allerdyce if you want to get persnickety about it._

_I think the names we got from our parents don't matter. I think our real names— Pyro, SW, Quicksilver— that's who we are, you know? I don't know what your family history is, but I think with what we have, what we've been given, however you want to put it, who we are is defined by those names. I don't know what you can do, SW, but I'm betting that SW means more to you than Wanda._

_And Pietro (dude, you've got a fucking crazy name), isn't Quicksilver a lot more telling than Pietro? From the whole thing about cash machines, you really have major issues._

_You don't need to agree with me, but still. I think words say just as much as any picture._

_Pyro._

_--_

Pyro reread the e-mail before sending it out to the twins. He hoped they agreed.

The kitchen door opened and he turned to see Jenny following Mystique inside, holding a pinch of snow to her split lip. "Hi," she said. Pyro looked at Mystique.

"What did you do to her?"

Mystique shrugged. "It was a defensive exercise."

"Yeah, so why'd you do that?"

"She didn't have good defenses."

He looked at Jenny as Mystique went upstairs. Jenny had crossed her arms. "I didn't, Pyro. Mystique's not lettin' me get off easy. If that'd bin a real fight, I'd have a split skull, not a split lip."

"Hmph."

"Are ya done with the computah?"

"Huh? No."

Jenny sighed and glanced around the kitchen. She pressed a finger gently to her lip before sitting across from Pyro. "Hurry, please." He nodded. "What're ya doin', anyway?"

"E-mail and stuff."

"What's ya e-mail?"

"I'll give it to you later. Do you use Gmutant?"

"No, I use Gmail. You should too."

Pyro snorted. "Gmutant _is_ Gmail. It's just for mutants, though. It's all word of mouth, basically."

"How do ya get it?" She stood up and circled around the table. "Show me."

He opened up a new browser window and logged out from Gmutant. "You go to Gmail and log in as 'gmutant' with password 'Epsilon-Delta'." He typed slowly so she could see before submitting. "Then you get this menu— you just answer these questions."

"'Most powerful mutants?' 'The name of the apocalypse'? How would anyone know these?"

"Like I said, word of mouth. There's two systems to measuring how strong a mutant is. There's the class system and there's the other system. There's five classes, five's the most powerful. And the other system's more complicated."

He stood up and grabbed a pen from the counter and a notebook. He flipped to the back and drew a two-by-three box. So you've got Alpha, Beta, and Gamma on the top row, and below Alpha's Delta, below Beta's Epsilon-Delta, and below Gamma's Epsilon. And up off of Alpha is Omega."

Jenny sat down on the edge of the table and rubbed her forehead. "I don't get it."

"Alphas and Deltas both look human and they can control their mutations. Alpha's are stronger."

"So would Betas and Epsilon-Deltas be mostly human and not as controllable?"

"Yeah, and Gammas and Epsilons are uncontrollable or very inhuman. Or both."

"What's your level?"

Pyro fidgeted. "Alpha. Or class four." She whistled.

"You're a macho-man, Pyro. Should I be watchin' my back?"

"Ha. Don't worry about me, missy. I'm not gonna hurt you."

She grinned. "Just checking. What d'ya think I am? I don't think I'm an Alpha."

"No, you seem more like a Delta. Class three."

"So I'm not as dangerous as ya?"

He looked up at her. "I wouldn't go that far." He bit his lip. "Most mutants are Deltas."

"It's okay, Pyro, ya don't need to try and console me or anything." She ruffled his hair. "I like who I am."

"I hope you like who you're with, too." She laughed. "Anyway."

He ran her through the rest of creating a Gmutant account, and after fifteen minutes he kicked her out of the kitchen so he could finish his e-mails.

Thirty seconds later, Mystique came back in.

"You so sure you're an Alpha, Pyro?" She smirked at him before her expression softened. "That was good of you, to explain that to her."

He shrugged. "She should know."

"Still."

Pyro laughed. "What, you don't think I can be nice?" She shrugged. "You know she's picking to go or stay tomorrow, why not entice her to stay?"

"You think she'll stay because of you?"

Mystique crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, eyebrows raised.

"Who knows. I told her she's going to stay, though."

"Oh, and that's real big incentive." She narrowed her eyes. "You trying to make her like you or something?"

"No, but that's not a bad idea."

She swooped down and clenched the edges of the table. He leaned back when she stuck her face inches from his. "Don't you dare manipulate her, _John_. I'm warning you."

"Shit, Mystique, what are you, her mother? I just want her to stay to help us win this war."

"Keep it down."

She moved away as fast as she had come in, leaving John confused and frowning as she went back upstairs.

"I really just want a friend, Mystique. Someone I can relate to."

Mystique didn't answer, not that he expected her to, so he logged back in to Gmutant to check his e-mail again.

There wasn't much better to do.

---

In the den, Jenny sighed.

_John wants a friend, what do I want?_

If she wanted to be completely honest, she'd say she wanted to go to where Bobby was. But Bobby didn't need her, really— he had all his friends, and Rogue. Hell, he was at a school for mutants, and all John had was her.

Logically, she told herself, he could cope. Magneto and Mystique would find someone else to recruit.

But there was something very real about John Allerdyce.

He was so different from Bobby— _God, he must get compared ta Bobby all the time. He must _hate_ it._ But they were really different. John really took his mutation to heart.

"If Bobby did that..."

She thanked God he hadn't, because he was so sweet and good, just like a guy ought to be. Jenny wasn't used to people like John— he was the kind of person she'd distanced herself from at school. Abby was about as much raw passion as she could handle.

Maybe she could teach him a bit about self-control.

_More likely I'll pick up some bad habits. But whateva._

She still had a day to change her mind.

---

_**10 Dec 2006.**_

_**Three weeks later.**_

"So ya gotta relax."

Pyro sighed. "Yeah, yeah."

He was sitting on the kitchen table; Jenny stood a foot away with her mouth set and her hands twisted together. For reasons he liked to think involved him, Jenny was still with the Brotherhood three weeks after she'd promised to make up her mind. She'd never said she'd stay, but he thought she just wanted to make sure she could get out if something went wrong.

"I mean, ya really gotta. I know I'm just really close, I can feel it."

"What're you close to?"

"Really getting the hang of this, focusin' without stuff gettin' in the way." She took a breath. "Now relax! Think about somethin' relaxing. Fishing?"

"Fishing?" She blushed and he smiled. Her frown remained, so he reached out, tapped her on the nose, and said, "Smile."

She giggled. "Fishing's one a the greatest pleashaws in life, Mistah Allahrdyce, and don't ya forget it."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Miss Atrium." He rubbed his hands together before pulling her between his knees. "Let's do this thing."

She lifted her hands to the side of his head, like a hundred times before. "Close ya eyes." He acquiesced, but opened them again when she took a tiny breath.

In the half-second before she dug into his brain, he savored the puckered frown, closed eyes and parted lips on her perfectly oval face.

Then he flinched.

_Ah._

---

He felt her in his mind, clear tendrils uncurling through his memories like a hundred suction cups.

_Aunt Laura held his hand at Grandma Dotty's funeral. St. John was eight; his brother was six. Nathaniel was on his mo—_

"Been there before," she muttered. She knew the memory too well to be bothered by it. She pushed on, past where she'd been. Images flashed through their minds, disjointed and overlapped until something flashed into focus like an old movie. "Something new. _Ah_."

"_Look, John, I know ya don't like Shakespeare but ya gotta do this project."_

"_I know, Bobby."_

"_Then get your Macbeth book."_

Macbeth...

_Triggertriggertriggerbadwordbadwordohnostopplease—_

"Don't—"

Jenny pushed.

"_Dauwn't worry, Nate, i'll be okay. Just go to bid before Dad comes howme."_

_Nate's chin quivered and some tears leaked from his big brown eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt." St. John laughed. "He'll leave awn Winzdye, righ? Righ, Sinjin?"_

"_He's gaune awn Winzdye," St. John said. The front door unlocked and St. John pushed Nate down the hall. Nate's face filled John and Jenny's minds, and everything went quiet…_

"What are you hiding behind there, Pyro?"

Jenny was honestly confused; he was, too. "I'm not hiding anything, there's nothing there—"

"There is, there has to be."

"Please, Jenny. There's nothing there—"

"Ah!"

_His father threw the glass bottle at him— even drunk he had perfect aim. St. John ducked behind a kitchen chair, but the bottle smashed and a glass shard pierced his cheek. His father roared and came at him with a pocket knife..._

_Came at him..._

"Stop. Stop." John's hands moved slower than usual towards her. "Stop!"

_Ah!_

John blinked his way out of his stupor. Jenny was on her knees on the floor, clutching her head. "That's what that scar's from."

He blinked again. "What was that?"

"God, no wonder you hate humans."

"Jenny, that never happened to me!"

She raised her eyebrows up at him. "It definitely did, John." She lifted her hand. "I'm feeling the same pain you did."

"But... I don't remember." John glanced at his palm.

"Just because ya don't remembah doesn't mean it nevah happened."

She stood up and stretched, rubbed the palm of her hand. She looked closely at John. "Ya mean ya really don't remembah that?"

"No. No," he said. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry." She stepped back in between his legs and hugged him. "Can I do anything?"

His arms hung by his sides. He couldn't believe it. "I don't believe it."

"God." She pushed him back to arm's length. "Should I— I'll get Magneto."

"No, don't." He grabbed her hand before she could go. "Don't go anywhere yet. I— I don't know what's happened."

She sighed. "It's my fault. I shouldn't've fauced it."

"No, it was Macbeth. Something about Macbeth."

"A trigger?" He frowned at her. "Triggers are things that bring back memories. Like, a movie. Or a book."

"Or a play."

She bit her lip. "I really am sorry, John. Pyro."

"John's okay for now."

"Are ya sure I shouldn't get them?"

"Just stay." He took a deep, shuddering breath and finally focused on her. "Thank you, Jenny." She shook her head.

"This is all my fault."

"No, it's not." He squeezed her hand. "It's not."

"Is ya brother okay?"

"My brother?"

"Nate. Nathaniel?"

"Dad would never hurt Nate. He loves Nate."

"He loved you, too, I bet."

John slapped her.

Her head snapped to the side; she stumbled slightly and she gripped John's knee for support before snatching her hand away.

"Oh my god." John was horrified. "God, Jenny, I didn't mean to do that—"

"Maybe I should go."

"You can't go!" He jumped down from the table and grabbed her hands. "Please, please forgive me. I don't know what came over me, Jenny, I really don't, I just— I didn't mean it." He dropped her hands and hugged her, burying his face in her neck. "Please, I'm so sorry. Please."

It struck him how just three weeks ago, he'd had to lie between his teeth to make her stay, and now he was begging her to.

"Please, Jenny."

Jenny couldn't move.

Something about the way his... fingers traced an unconscious pattern on her lower back and shoulder simultaneously, and the way his mouth moved against her hair, against her neck. And the way he was stronger than she was, even though Mystique was training her.

It was impossible for her to move.

"Please, Jenny—"

"Stop!" Her shoulders tensed and he pulled away, crestfallen. "Of course I forgive ya, I shouldn't've said it."

"And… you're not leaving?"

"No, I'm not." She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and he turned his head to kiss it.

"Thank you."

---

* * *

---

Thanks for reading! Please review.

_Yet another note:_ I decided I'd better define the Class 1 - 5 since it's so sketchy, at least in the confines of MU.

Level 1, physical mutation, not really of any practial use, including tails, beaks. Ex: Beak (comics).

Level 2, physical mutation, providing an interesting but not particularly impressive ability. Ex: Quill, Phat, Anole (green guy on the wall).

Level 3, physical mutation, providing a remarkable ability like Shapeshifting or Healing. Specific powers such as optic blasts or phasing. Less impressive psychic abilities are included here, as is teleportation, fire-belching, superspeed, etc. Ex: Cyclops, Wolverine, Sabertooth, Mystique, Shadowcat, Colossus, Callisto, Angel.

Level 4, powers such as control over magnetism, the weather, vast psychic abilities and other large-area ranging abilities. Also, life absorbtion. Ex: Magneto, Storm, Professor X, Pyro, Rogue, possibly Iceman.

Level 5, unending power. Ex: Phoenix, possibly Iceman.

Personally, I think it's silly that movie-Callisto's at best a class 3, but whatever. If you're interested in the comic-devined mutant level of any Marvel mutant, check out en. marveldatabase. com.

(And you know how Pyro is pyromanic? For his e-mail, I changed the 'man' in pyromanical to 'mutant', since I figured he'd think it was clever. At least, I think it's clever.)


	3. Reality hurts

_Rated T for language._

All X-men material belongs to Marvel; some of it also belongs to Fox (I think?).

All original material, plot, characters, that sort of thing, belongs to me.

_Note_: This chapter begins later the same day as last chapter.

_Note 2_: Apologies for the wait; I've been busy. Hopefully you understand that I have a life outside of this. .

_Another note_: Last chapter, I said, "As far as Gmutant is concerned, I'm just telling all you hopefuls that it doesn't exist," and I have to rectify that: it might exist, but I don't know about it. If I did, my mutant power would be empathy, I believe. (So please don't go into extensive detail about your injuries. It hurts.)

_And another note_: I'm really not feeling confident about my writing at the moment, so I would love constructive criticism. And constructive criticism is not mindless praise, people. I want to know how I can improve this experience, for your enjoyment and my own.

Please read and review. :-)

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* * *

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_**10 Dec 2006.**_

_**11:25 PM.**_

_**Nine hours later.**_

Pyro hadn't been asleep very long when he was poked awake.

"Pyro, wake up."

He opened his eyes and found Mystique's yellow eyes a tad too close for comfort. "I'm up. Jesus. Move." He sat up inside his sleeping bag and stretched out his arms. "What?"

"There's a Northeastern outside, it's way below freezing." Mystique crossed her arms when Pyro frowned at her.

"So?"

"Put up the heat, Pyro, even if we had power it'd be out!"

"Oh." Pyro glanced at the glowing embers in the fire, and they jumped into a fire. Next to him, Jenny jolted awake at the sudden crackling.

"Wha's goin' on?"

"A Northeastern."

"Nor'easter?"

"Whatever." He shrugged. She shivered as Mystique slammed the kitchen door and went back upstairs. "It's freezing'."

"Not for long," he said. "It'll be warm soon."

"Hm." She glanced at the fireplace and burrowed back in her sleeping back, breathing on her hands to warm them up. "How are the twins?"

"Huh?"

"The twins. From Gmutant. The ones you keep talking about?"

"Oh, ha. Them. They're good, actually. Wanda said they're in New York City."

"New Yorkers bother me." Jenny wriggled halfway out of her sleeping bag. "God, it's so warm already. You're a real furnace, you are."

"Central heating has nothing on me." John puffed out his chest and stuck out his upper lip in a goofy grin. Jenny laughed at him. "What, it's true."

"Sure it is." She pushed away the whole sleeping bag. "Jesus, it's so hot now."

"Well, we gotta make sure Mystique and Magneto don't freeze." He grinned at her. "And if you're hot, you can always strip."

"Allerdyce!" She punched his arm. "Don't even think about it."

He laughed until she tickled his side. "Holy shit!" he cried out. She howled as he tried to get out of her reach and, when he finally did, collapsed in a fit of giggles. "You yobbo! Fuckin' whacka! You bitch, I'll get you!"

"I'll be sure to watch my back, Pyro," she laughed. "And I'll keep in mind that ya go into Aussie mode when you're tickled."

"You..."

He lunged at her, unexpectedly, and she laughed triumphantly when he tried to tickle her. "I'm not ticklish!"

"I'll make you fuckin' ticklish." He jabbed his fingers between her ribs and she yelped. "Oops."

"That hurt!" She wheeled back and then the futon wasn't there and she fell on the pile of coats next to the futon. "Ah, shit." John loomed over her and she leaned her head back, looking him straight in the eye. "I am gonna kill ya."

"Oh really?"

She only smiled. "Ya think you're somethin', dontcha."

"Do I?" He grinned and leaned back. Jenny climbed back onto the futon and stretched.

"I'm totally not tired anymore." She grinned. "Wanna play online poker?"

"How about real poker?"

"You have cahds?" John reached over to a duffel bag by the fireplace and pulled out a package of Bicycle cards. "Where'd ya get 'em?"

"A convenience store in town." He poured the cards out of their box and shuffled them. "You wanna deal?"

"Can we play something else?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno." She smiled at his knee. "Wanna play go fish?"

"Ew. Go fish is so lame."

"Go fish is only lame if the people playing are lame. We're not lame. Therefore go fish isn't lame." Jenny smirked.

"Whatever you say." He grinned. "How about Jin Rummy?"

She nodded, eyes sparking.

.

* * *

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_**12 Dec 2006.**_

_**1:00 PM.**_

_**Two Days Later.**_

John barged into the kitchen and Jenny jumped.

"My dad did hurt Nate."

"What?"

"He hurt Nate!"

Jenny couldn't think of anything to say, but she couldn't stop her mouth from opening. She looked down at the laptop on the counter. After a few seconds, she snapped it closed and whirled around to face John.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw him leaning on the table, his head bowed and back shaking.

"You were right," he said.

"John—"

"Why didn't I listen to you, Jenny?" He bent his head lower, and Jenny imagined him dying a little inside.

"It's not your fault, John." She crossed to his side and put a hand on his trembling back. "It's not your fault."

He turned to her. "Jenny, why didn't I listen to you." She shook her head. "You know these things," he argued, "you're a psychic."

"I don't know everything. I wasn't thinking when I said that, and you know it!"

"Don't I?" John looked away and sighed. "I was so sure, the whole time, that he loved Nate."

"You can love someone and still hurt them."

He stared. "Seriously? You believe that?" She nodded. "That's a load of crap."

"No, it isn't." She toyed with the ends of her sleeves. "I hurt my parents— yuh know, with the vertigo and all, because they were blaming you and Bobby for Ronnie calling the police. Even though they were dumb, I still love them. They're my parents. Just because your dad hurt you doesn't necessarily mean he hates you. I mean, I dunno the reason, obviously—"

"Obviously not." John snorted. "Jeez, Jenny, I thought you'd understand. Thought I could count on you."

"Don't do that. Don't try to guilt me into agreeing with you." She huffed. "Look, John, don't blame me because your dad's a bad father."

John gaped. "You're the one who forced your way into my head—"

"But I'm not the one who you ought t'be angry at! I didn't do anything I wasn't supposed to! I wasn't hiding from what happened! I don't need to pretend things..."

She trailed off and looked over at the stairs. John looked too, and he saw Magneto coming down.

"Is something wrong, Pyro?"

"No, just... I realized something."

Magneto looked at Jenny. "Explain."

John opened his mouth to argue, but a wave of nausea shut it. Jenny wasn't even looking at him, but he knew Magneto had felt none of what he had.

"While reading his mind on Sunday, I found some repressed memories." Magneto's eyebrows drifted upwards. "They were all related to—"

"My childhood."

Pyro was seething, and they could both tell. Magneto motioned Jenny to go into the other room, and she disappeared before Pyro could make her stay. As soon as the door closed, he spun away from Magneto and threaded his fingers through his hair, gripping his scalp with his fingernails.

Magneto waited.

Eventually, Pyro turned back around. He crossed his arms and looked at somewhere behind Magneto's shoulder.

"My sperm-donor abused us."

"Us?"

"Me and my brother."

"And you realized this when..."

"When Jenny was going through my head. She always comes up with stuff she's seen before, stuff she saw at random. So she just kind of, I dunno, barged right in. She missed everything I was thinking about at the time."

"Perhaps it was familiar to her." Magneto's tone changed; Pyro looked at him. "It could be that psychic barrier was put in place, and as a psychic, she was drawn to other psychic activity in your mind."

"But how would she know—"

"Instinct. How did she find us?"

John's mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to remember.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "She never said. She just said... She said she had a feeling."

"Exactly," Magneto whispered. "Oh, Charles. That was foolish indeed."

"What?"

Magneto looked at Pyro and shook his head. "I would never have believed it possible, but I believe Charles— your Professor— placed the blocks in your head."

"Why the hell would he do that? The Professor didn't do stuff like that."

"He may have made an exception."

"Why?"

Magneto sighed. "Why is it you and none of the others realized the futility of his dream?"

John's eyes widened.

.

* * *

.

_**The other room.**_

Jenny sat against the door.

Magneto was lying.

At least, he didn't completely believe this Professor would cloud John's memories. And if that was the case, why was there a trigger?

She wished, not the first time, that she knew more about memories. AP Psychology had not done a good job to prepare her for this kind of situation.

Then again, how many people ever were in this situation?

Not too many, Jenny imagined. And even if there was someone who just re-found memories he'd hidden, how likely was it that they'd be remembering that their little brother was beaten by their father?

Well, that part wasn't as unlikely as it being dragged out by a psychic who didn't know when to stop.

She shook her head. It wasn't worth thinking about the possibilities. It was reality that mattered, and reality was telling her that Magneto was lying. Reality was telling her that John believed it.

Reality was making her insides wrench.


End file.
